


The Photographer’s Assistant

by Rheynin



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheynin/pseuds/Rheynin
Summary: You’ve been traveling with your cousin, Albert, trying to help him with a photography project he’s been working on. He’s trying to document the true, unspoiled American wilderness, and the animals of each region. One day, as he’s trying to lure out some coyotes to photograph, a mysterious stranger comes along to help him out, and you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him. He’s strong, handsome, and has an almost unnatural knack for handling the wildlife you’ve been trying to photograph. What’s this man’s story, and is he as drawn to you as you are him?
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	The Photographer’s Assistant

1  
You sat on a nearby rock, waiting, while Albert made the final adjustments to his camera. He was definitely a perfectionist, which was probably why his photographs always turned out so nice, and why he was so popular with the upper class when it came to his portraits. He could have made a fortune that way, if he’d wanted. But the wilderness called to him, or at least he thought it had, and he’d asked you, his dearest cousin, to come along to help him out.  
It probably had a lot to do with the fact that he knew your mother had been continually harassing you about marriage. Past thirty, you were proudly marching beyond an easily marriageable age, and she just couldn’t stand the thought of it. She’d begun throwing every eligible single in the area your way, just hoping you’d give in and marry one of them. For you, it simply wasn’t an option. All of your life, you’d known that it would take a pretty extraordinary individual to get you interested in marriage. It wasn’t that you disliked the idea of committing to one person for the rest of your life, quite the opposite. It was that you couldn’t fathom the idea of marrying anyone that you didn’t feel absolutely certain you’d never get tired of or bored with.  
After you’d written all of this to Albert, he’d shown up weeks later, begging your mother to let him take you as his assistant. He needed family, someone who he could trust. Someone kind, good with animals, and, most of all, someone with your natural eye for art. He’d plead his case so fervently, your mother couldn’t help but agree. Of course, the idea that you might make money from book royalties didn’t hurt, either. So now, here you were, watching with bated breath as a lone coyote approached the bag of meat Albert had set out. He laid low in the grass, crawling slowly towards it. Little by little, bit by bit, he made his way over . . . and was startled off by a man approaching them on horseback.  
“What you doing here?” He asked, dismounting and walking over.  
As you watched, the coyote disappeared into the distance. You leapt off the rock after him, ready to tell him off for disturbing the shot, but the words of fire you’d prepared died on your tongue when you saw him. He had to be just about the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Albert, undaunted by the disturbance, walked up and introduced himself. As he began explaining the project, you took the opportunity to stare at this handsome stranger shamelessly.  
He was at least six feet tall, with broad, heavily muscled shoulders and arms, and dark sandy brown hair. Heavy, furrowed eyebrows sat atop steel blue eyes, with a beautifully chiseled nose between, and full, weathered lips beneath. His jawline was firm, squared, covered with a perfect dusting of stubble, and it was making you feel more than a little weak in the knees. His shirt was partially undone, giving you a view of his burly chest, a fine tuft of dark hair peeking deliciously up from the bottom of the gap. Everything about his body said he was a rugged powerhouse of a man who could probably throw you over his shoulder without a second thought, and the very thought made your cheeks flush.  
As Albert was talking to the man, trying to convince him to pose for a photo, the coyote returned. He slunk forward slowly, then moved so quickly that you didn’t have a chance to breathe a word of warning before he’d grabbed the bag and run off with it. Moving almost as quickly as the coyote had, the man took off after him.  
“That bag had some of my supplies in it!” Albert cried after him.  
While you were busy chastising Albert for being so careless with the expensive supplies, the gentleman, whose name you learned was Arthur Morgan, chased the bag. Before long, he returned with it in hand, but not before you’d heard him yelling out a warning to the coyote to stay away. The thought of such a rugged looking man talking mindlessly to animals was so adorable, you had to stifle a laugh as he approached.  
“I got your bag!” Arthur approached with an unmistakable strut. “But a bag of meat will tend to bring out the worst in the local wildlife.”  
Albert thanked him profusely, then disappeared back into the world of his camera, effectively dismissing Arthur, but he seemed reluctant to leave, glancing at the camera and watching everything Albert was doing. After a minute, you walked over to him.  
“Can I help you, Mr Morgan?” You asked in your sweetest voice, giving him a look that would melt butter. “You seem very interested.”  
He shuffled his feet a bit, looking down just after meeting your eyes. You could swear you saw a blush across his cheeks. All that from just a look? Who would have guessed this tough looking guy could be so easily rattled?  
“Uh, yeah. I was just wondering about this project you’re doing. You just working around here?” He hooked his thumbs on his belt, doing his best to look you in the eyes, but failing miserably.  
“Oh, no. We’re actually traveling quite extensively. Albert intends to photograph as many species of wildlife as he possibly can, as well as document what life is like for people who live in the more remote areas of the country.”  
He looked a bit impressed. “That right? Your husband’s pretty ambitious, ‘specially for a man with no wildlife experience.”  
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Albert’s not my husband!” Albert glanced over upon hearing his name. “He’s lovely, really, but he’s my cousin. I’m just here to help.”  
Arthur’s eyes brightened at that, and he’d just opened his mouth to say something when Albert came butting in.  
“Mr Morgan, would you mind terribly stepping over here a moment?” He lead him away to a spot in front of the camera while you watched on helplessly. “It’s just that you are a fine example of a rugged outdoorsman. A man who lives by his wits, fighting the elements! It would make a wonderful photo.”  
“Me?” Arthur asked, his doubts written across his face.  
“Oh, certainly, Mr Morgan.”  
“Yes, Mr Morgan, please do pose for Albert!” You tried to be as encouraging as you could. A photograph of this man might be all you’d have to remember him by, and you definitely wanted to remember him. “We can send you a copy of the photo, if you like.”  
With your encouragement, Arthur relented, and Albert snapped several different poses before he was finally satisfied. When he was, he disappeared back into his own little world, packing up his camera and talking to himself. Not wanting him to feel abandoned, you walked over to where he was standing, then accompanied him to his horse. Trying to delay him just a few moments, you apologized for Albert.  
“He doesn’t mean to be rude, he’s just very absorbed in his projects.”  
“Ah, it’s alright. No harm done, to me anyway, but if he insists on leaving meat out for wild animals, he might have some harm coming to him. Or you, for that matter.”  
“ I do tell him these are bad ideas, he’s just so determined! As I said, he’s quite focused.”  
“Well, I’d hate to see harm come to you ‘cause he’s intent on being an idiot.”  
You laughed, then shook your head. “I hope it won’t come to that.”  
“Well, you take care.”  
“I will, Mr Morgan. Thank you again for your help.”  
With that, he smiled softly and mounted his horse, but just before he rode off, he turned to you again.  
“Where’d you say you’d be taking pictures again?”  
“Oh, well, I didn’t, but Albert has mentioned some wildlife he’d like to see over near Valentine, and some wild horses near a place called Emerald Ranch. Plus I know he’d really like to get some shots from the swamps by Saint Denis, and his most prized shot would be to get an Eagle, nesting.. I’m not sure about the safety of that last, though.”  
“Yeah, me neither.” He pursed his lips for a minute, like he was thinking hard about something. “ You know, I travel around a lot. Maybe I’ll catch up with you later on.”  
Smiling warmly, you replied “I’d like that very much Mr Morgan.”

2  
Standing cautiously beside your horse, you huffed out an exasperated breath, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. Despite the incident with the coyotes, as well as a few interesting run-ins with some pronghorn and deer, Albert was being a complete idiot again. Oh, and there’d been that near miss with the bison, too. This time, he’d tied a giant bag of meat up in a tree, in order to lure out some wolves nearby. You’d told him more than once that it was the dumbest idea since the coyote thing, but all he could do was tell you that this time all of his supplies were safely tucked away in the saddlebags, and that this time there wouldn’t be any trouble- as long as the wind stayed down. So there you were, beside your horse, watching your sweet but apparently insane cousin try to get eaten, and hoping for some kind of divine intervention to keep you both safe.  
Something out there must have heard you, because as you watched Albert mumbling to himself, a figure you thought you recognized appeared on the horizon. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d hoped that you’d get to see him again, but knew that, realistically, it was improbable. Yet here he was again, approaching on horseback, sun shining behind him, like a figure from a fairy tale. You smiled broadly as he dismounted, watching him approach your oblivious cousin Albert.  
“Hello again!”  
“Oh!” Albert jumped away from his camera. “Hello again . . . Mr . . . .”  
“Morgan.” You finished for him, walking towards them. You looked to Arthur and extended your hand, which he shook warmly, covering it with his other hand as he did. “It’s very nice to see you again.”  
“Likewise.”  
“Morgan! Yes, Mr Morgan. How are you sir?” Without waiting for a reply, Albert continued. “My nerves. Oh, I’m afraid I’m not quite the outdoor adventurer that I thought. God’s own country, and I feel as if I’m in purgatory.”  
While they chatted, you couldn’t help but notice Arthur’s eyes continued to return to you, drinking you in. He probably thought he was being subtle, facing Albert, flicking his eyes towards you again and again, but the way his eyes lingered, tracing you from top to bottom, was anything but. You let out a soft chuckle and saw him smile in response, proving how closely he was watching you. Suddenly a word of Albert’s caught his ear, pulling his attention back.  
“Wolves! You really are trying to get yourself eaten.”  
“Well, I hope not. I left the meat over there.” Albert gestured vaguely in the direction of the tree where it was tied. “I thought we’d be safe. Given the wind.”  
“Yeah, sure. If you manage to attract the world’s least intelligent wolf.” Arthur looked over to where you were standing, watching you mouth ‘help him’ as you rolled your eyes, and stifled a laugh. “I’ll stay with you a while. If anything comes, I’ll, uh, protect you as needed.” He looked to where you stood, giving you a wink, then kneeled beside Albert.  
“You are a gentleman.” Albert’s shoulders relaxed instantly as Arthur settled in beside him.  
“You don’t know me very well.”  
You sidled over beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Nonsense, Mr Morgan. Only a true gentleman would be so willing to protect a man who seemed as set on getting himself eaten as cousin Albert here!”  
Arthur laughed, while Albert offhandedly replied, “Oh, ha ha. You are a riot, dear cousin. Perhaps I should have left you with my aunt, to be married off to some stinking, boorish nitwit twice your age?”  
“Albert!” You hissed.  
Arthur looked back at you, concern in his eyes, while Albert continued talking, questioning Arthur about his experience in the outdoors. Though he answered every question, his eyes kept returning to you, mouth twisting as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure how, or if it was okay. Every time you caught sight of his eyes, staring you down, you felt your stomach somersault. A part of you, deep inside, wanted to drag him off to the nearest quiet location, sit at his feet, and get him to tell you everything about himself, no secret left untold. The more realistic part thought that it would just be really nice to be able to spend some time with him without worrying about being eaten.  
About that time, Arthur’s body stiffened, hushing you both. “Looks like we got company,” he whispered, nodding towards where the meat hung.  
Your eyes followed, noticing first one, then another, until finally three wolves approached the tree. Albert shifted quietly behind his camera, coaxing the wolves out in a soft voice as he began snapping photos. Soon a total of five wolves had gathered beneath the tree. Arthur slowly and silently drew his pistol, readying it, as you moved behind him. With his free arm, he reached back to push you further behind him, elbow pressing against the side of your thigh, while his hand slid down the back of your calf. As the first wolf howled, you found yourself nervously gripping his shoulder. He shifted again, making sure to keep his eyes on the wolves and his body between yours and theirs.  
The flash of Albert’s camera popped again and again, each time drawing the attention of another wolf. Though Albert seemed oblivious, your palms were sweating. One wolf broke off from the group, moving around the three of you to the left, while another moved to the right. Arthur was obviously nervous himself now, finger twitching on the trigger as his eyes glanced quickly from wolf to wolf.  
The first wolf, the one right in front of the camera, shifted to stare at Albert, a low growl rising in its throat. It stalked towards him, eyes locked, while the two at the sides began pacing greedily back and forth. They began to snarl, while the first had edged forward, separated from the three of you by mere feet now, barking a harsh warning. You were being circled, surrounded.  
It suddenly occurred to you that two of the five wolves were nowhere to be seen. While you shifted your head, frantically searching for them, the two from the sides joined the first in front of you, each of them focused on one of you, snarling as the readied themselves to pounce. Arthur wasted no time in firing a shot to the one in the center, the closest, hitting it right between the eyes and dropping it immediately. Then a rustling to the left caught your attention just as one of the final two wolves leapt out.  
Arthur pushed you roughly behind him as he turned, firing two quick shots into its side, wounding but not killing it. While he was distracted by that, the fifth wolf jumped from the right, briefly latching onto his still outstretched arm before he downed it with a shot to the chest. He spun around to where the other three stood, firing a shot at each of them.  
“They ain’t so very friendly, are they?” He yelled to Albert as he shot down another, the final two surging towards him. One latched onto his pistol arm momentarily, shaking it but not quite making him lose his grip. He kicked it off, a fine spray of blood covering them both as he put in the final shot to its skull.  
Only one left, determined, vaulting at him and nearly knocking him over as it bit into his arm hard enough for him to cry out. You saw the dripping of red as he twisted away, firing three rapid shots to its chest. His face was a mask of anger and determination as he watched it fall, then softened as he turned to where you stood over Albert.  
“Is that all of ‘em?” You nodded, breathing nearly as heavily as he was, though you hadn’t done nearly the work. He crossed the distance between you quickly before taking your hands and looking you over for injuries. “I think we might’ve kept the wolves from the door.”  
Albert panted, grasping at his chest. “My whole futile existence flashed before my eyes! What a way to go . . . literally a dog’s dinner . . . .” He wandered off, mumbling to himself.  
“They were just minding their own business before you hung that meat up there! Honestly, Albert, you have got to think a bit more! You could have gotten us all killed!” You screamed, your body still flushed with adrenaline. Arthur grabbed ahold of your shoulder to get your attention, shaking his head as he did.  
“He ain’t gone listen.”  
“I know. But, still . . . .”  
“You hurt anywhere?”  
You shook your head. “Thanks to you. I’m sorry you had to get involved in this.”  
“If I hadn’t you might both be dead right now.”  
You had to admit, he was right. Suddenly, you remembered the way he’d been attacked, and your eyes flew wide. You grabbed his arms, making him wince a bit.  
“Oh, I haven’t been hurt, but you . . . they grabbed you!”  
He tried to push you away, drawing his hands back. “Ain’t nothing, really. I can handle it.”  
“Nonsense. You saved our lives, the least I can do is take care of the injuries you got doing so!”  
You pulled him gently over to a nearby rock, pressing on his shoulders to make him sit down. Once he had, you tugged as carefully as you could on the jacket he was wearing, pulling it off and rolling up his shirtsleeves. You took one of his large, calloused hands into yours, carefully turning his arm to get a decent look at the wounds, then did the same to the other. They didn’t look too bad, thanks to the jacket he was wearing, but they needed cleaning and bandaging.  
“Stay here,” you spoke firmly, giving him no choice but to obey. He watched, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth, while you gathered a canteen, bandages, and a small bottle of whiskey from your horse. When you returned, you gestured for him to lift his hands back up, and he did as you asked.  
While you worked a dampened cloth carefully around his arms, his eyes took in your face. It was the first time he’d really had a chance to see you this closely, and he was even more certain than he had been before that you were the most attractive person he’d ever seen. He swallowed hard as he felt the softness of your hands moving against his skin, touching him so tenderly. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him with this sort of kindness. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something, anything to say, when you looked up at him.  
You’d been about to ask him if you were hurting him, but the question dissolved in your mouth when you noticed how close your face was to his. Eye to eye, your noses were nearly touching, and you could feel each of his soft breaths tickling your lips. Unable to look away from those eyes, you bit your lip, and saw his eyes glance down at your mouth, his breath hitching slightly. Without being fully conscious of it, one of your fingers began tracing along the lines of his palm, while you gently chewed on your bottom lip. His eyes closed while he enjoyed the feel of your hand against his.  
“Do you want some whiskey? For the pain?” You breathed out the words quietly, afraid of scaring away this tender moment. He nodded, and you passed the bottle to him, taking a quick sip for yourself first. When he’d taken two large gulps, he passed the bottle back and you sat it down carefully pouring a bit on a fresh cloth to disinfect his wounds. “This may sting a bit.”  
He flinched as you pressed the alcohol laden cloth against the broken skin on his arm, though you could tell he was trying to hide it. In response, you stroked carefully along the inside of his forearm, making soft shushing sounds. When both arms had been properly disinfected, you carefully wound bandages where he needed them, going out of your way to brush your skin against his. The way he seemed so needy, so hungry just to be touched woke something inside of you. Maybe a part of you felt the same way, even if you tried to deny it. Maybe it was just him you craved.  
As you finished bandaging him, you found your eyes drawn to his lips. Plump, soft, you couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like pressing against you, anywhere. Everywhere. How would he kiss you? Would he be rough, hard and hungry, like a starving animal? Or would he be tender, kisses falling like petals against your skin, tickling you and leaving you forever wanting more? Would his hands tangle in your hair as you breathed in against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat in your mouth? Finally, you couldn’t make any more excuses to continue touching him, and you trailed your fingers down his arm before standing and moving away. He stood up, looking at you shyly for a minute before the two of you walked to his horse.  
“I just wanted to thank you again, Mr Morgan-“  
“Call me Arthur. Please.”  
You inhaled, forcing yourself to look into his eyes, despite your shyness. “Arthur, then. Thank you again. For helping us. For saving our lives. If you hadn’t been here . . . .”  
“I know.” He reached up and touched the side of your face. “I’m glad I was here too.”  
He smiled softly at you before mounting his horse. Just as he was about to ride away, you put your hand on his knee.  
“You know, next week we’re going to be staying out near Emerald Ranch. In case you happen to be out that way.”  
“You know,” he said, a mischievous smile on his lips, “I think I just might.” 

3  
The trees rustled above you, occasionally dropping a leaf to skitter across the page you were sketching on. Albert stood nearby, talking to himself and fiddling with his camera. You looked at him from time to time, chuckling to yourself. You’d already drawn at least three times the number of sketches of the horses to the photos he’d taken, but neither of you were in a hurry. At least the horses were unlikely to try to eat you.  
You closed your sketchbook and put it to the side, leaning back against the tree and pulling your feet beneath you. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot, especially beneath the green canopy of the trees, and Emerald Ranch was a beautiful area, despite the slight oddness of most of the locals. The only thing that could possibly have made the day even more perfect was seeing Arthur.  
When you’d last parted, you told him where you and Albert were heading next, hoping he’d show up, and he’d made a cheeky comment that had made you feel all but certain he’d come. It had been three days already, and you still hadn’t seen him, but you were trying to be patient, despite how badly you wanted him near you again. Something about him made you feel warm inside in a way no one else ever had. He was such a bundle of contradictions, looking like a hulking mountain of a man, but with a shy tenderness about him that made you want to melt.  
You were so lost in your daydreams that you almost didn’t notice that the man himself had ridden up and was now in conversation with Albert not far from you. A wide grin broke out on your face as you watched Albert motion in your general direction, then saw Arthur nod and turn, walking toward you. When he saw you watching him, he smiled and gave you a slight wave before settling on the ground beside you.  
“So I see your cousin has finally learned to photograph animals that are a bit less likely to want him for lunch.”  
You laughed, “This time, Mr Morgan.”  
“I done told you, call me Arthur,” he said, grinning at you.  
“Sorry. But I honestly don’t expect this concern for our personal safety to last for long. In fact, I think it was more motivated by love of the horses than safety concerns. Not that I’m complaining.”  
“Nor am I.” Arthur shifted a bit, then noticed your sketchbook on the ground beside you. “What’s that?”  
You pushed the sketchbook under your leg, trying to hide it from him. For some reason the thought of him seeing what you’d drawn made you feel very self conscious. “It’s just some drawings I was working on. I’ve been trying to document some of the wildlife and plants near where Albert’s photographing. He thought it might make nice supplemental material for his project.”  
“So, are you an artist?”  
You chuckled to yourself. “Something like that. At least I try. I’ve been drawing in one way or another since I was young, but I’ve never really had any formal training or anything.”  
“Hmm. You know, I do a bit of drawing myself. Never trained either.” He rubbed his index finger against his chin. “ You mind if I take a look?”  
You looked down, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “It’s not anything special. It’s just some plants and animals, a little scenery.”  
“It’s okay. That’s about all I draw too.”  
You handed the book over, watching nervously as he flipped through the pages. Occasionally, he’d linger on one, tracing his finger around the image, but not saying a word. When he finally reached the last page you’d drawn on, he closed it, handing it back to you while looking into your eyes.  
“That’s real fine.”  
Your fingers brushed against his as you took it back, and he let his hand linger beneath yours for a moment with a soft smile, which you returned. After you’d put it away again, you leaned your back against the tree beside him, and he shuffled over slightly, pressing his shoulder against yours. Your hand lay loosely on top of your thigh, while he ran his fingers nervously over the seam of his pants beside you. For a while, neither of you spoke.  
At last, you broke the silence. “You know, Arthur, since I showed you my drawings, I think it’s only fair if I see yours.”  
This time it was his turn to blush. “They ain’t much.”  
“Neither were mine.” You lean your face towards him, stroking your hand over his where it rests beside you. “Please?”  
He cuts his eyes at you sideways, trying to play coy. “Maybe I don’t want you to see what I draw. Maybe it’s private.”  
“Private? You said it was only plants, animals, & scenery.” This time you slip your hand inside his, twining his fingers in yours and looking into his eyes, making yours as large and pleading as possible. “Please, Arthur? I’d really like to see.”  
Oh, the feel of your velvet palm against his with those doe eyes did him in. Reluctantly , he reached into his satchel and pulled out a leather bound journal, much nicer than yours. He handed it over, but before he let it go, he cautioned you.  
“Remember, I said it ain’t much.”  
How on earth he could think that was beyond you. The sketches were rough, loose, sure, but there was a lifelike nature to them, as though, rather than capturing the literal vision, he captured the true spirit of what he was drawing. Some of them were merely technical tidbits, reminders of this animal or that plant. Occasionally the face of a person he’d met filled the page, with a story that you tried to avoid reading so you didn’t invade his privacy too much. But it was the two page spreads you liked best, images of flowered fields, waterfalls, or sunsets that made you wish you’d been there beside him to see it.  
“Arthur,” you breathed, genuinely impressed, “They’re beautiful.”  
He took the book back from you, unable to hide how proud he was that you’d liked them. Before he returned it to his satchel, he paused for a minute, then began thumbing through blank pages towards the back of the book.  
“I got one more I want you to see, but you gotta promise you ain’t gone laugh, okay?”  
You nodded, and your breath caught in your throat when he held the picture out to you. He’d drawn you, just as you must have looked to him when you were dressing the wolf bites, your face turned down slightly in concentration. He’d paid special attention to the way your lip curved in as you bit it, and the way your eyelashes shadowed against the rim of your cheek. He’d made you look far more attractive than you thought you did in real life. Tears pricked at your eyes.  
You twined your arm through his, pressing your face into his shoulder. You couldn’t believe he’d thought you were something worth taking the time to draw, and that he’d managed to make you look like such a treasure, and you told him as much. He raised his free hand, stroking his fingers along the side of your face before tracing them along the line of your jaw. Then he placed a finger under your chin, lifting it up to make you look him in the eye.  
“I just drew what I saw. Honestly, I don’t even think I did you justice, not by half.”  
“Arthur, I-“  
You were cut off by his lips against yours, his teeth pressing softly into your lower lip. The surprise of it caused your lips to part, his tongue slipping in to gently brush against yours as his hand cupped the back of your neck. A hushed moan escaped from you as you pressed your fingertips into the hard muscles of his thigh. To you, he tasted like salt, earth, smoke. To him, you tasted like sunshine, cool water. He would drink you if he could, or drown in the essence of you. He’d want your taste forever, crave it the way a drowning man craves air.  
After you parted, he pressed his forehead to yours, both of you left shaken by the simple intensity of the kiss. His hand stayed against the back of your neck, just as you left your hand on his thigh. Soon, you shift, nuzzling your face into the tenderness of his neck while he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. A deep peace washes over you both, and you know that if you could make any moment last forever, it would be this one.  
Unfortunately, it can’t last forever. The sun is already beginning it’s slow descent beneath the horizon, and Albert has begun packing his gear away, ready to try again tomorrow. He still hasn’t managed to get a decent photo, a fact you feel unbelievably grateful for when Arthur tells you that he’s going to have to stick around a few days, in case Albert does need his help, after all. He tells you he’s going to camp nearby, not far from the barn down the road, as he pulls you into a swift embrace beside his horse. He’s entirely too aware of Albert’s eyes on him from nearby, afraid of taking too many liberties. You, on the other hand, have no such qualms, pulling him down into a hard, open mouthed kiss that takes his breath away before you walk away, glancing back over your shoulder to wave him goodbye.  
As you approach your cousin, you can see the slightly shocked look on his face, the one he has the decency to shake away before speaking to you, a tinge of humor in his voice.  
“I take it you rather like Mr Morgan?”  
“Indeed I do, Albert,” you say, a low chuckle coloring your response. “Very much so.”  
Albert looks at you for a moment, then pretends to be deep in thought for several seconds before speaking again. “You know, cousin, I think that it may be very difficult to properly capture the beauty of these wild horses.”  
You look at him, eyebrow raised.  
“Well, they’re so very temperamental, and I’m afraid I am such a buffoon. Yes! Such a terribly talentless buffoon. It may be weeks before I can get a proper shot.”  
You turn to him, smiling, before pulling him into a hug and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He’s always been your favorite cousin.

4  
You and Arthur watched Albert from the blanket, the picnic you’d made temporarily forgotten. He seemed to be struggling, raising his fists to the sky and shouting indistinguishable curses, as the horses continually avoided him.  
Arthur chuckled from where his head lay in your lap. “You know, at some point I’m gonna have to help him.”  
You sighed. “I know. And you’ll have to leave.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I’m just doing my best to pretend it’s not going to be anytime soon.”  
“It’s already been three weeks,” he said “and as much as I’d rather be here, last time I went back to camp, Dutch gave me an earful. Said I wasn’t doing my part around there.”  
You pulled a face, then started stroking Arthur’s hair, making him relax back into your lap and close his eyes, sighing contentedly. You’d discovered that he enjoyed having his hair played with, so much that you could probably get him to promise you anything while your fingers ran through those thick locks. Not that you’d ever take advantage of it, of course.  
You started humming a soft tune as you played throughout his tangles, occasionally tugging just lightly enough to elicit a quiet moan from him. He reached up, running his heavy hands along the sides of your thighs for a few seconds before pulling you down into a soft kiss. You smiled at him in thanks, then continued your work in his hair. Before long, you were singing softly, more to yourself than anything, but of course he heard you, given how close the two of you were. He opened his eyes to look at you.  
“That’s real nice. You got a nice voice there.”  
“I don’t. I just sing for myself, to keep from getting bored.”  
He moved from your lap to prop himself up on one arm and look into your eyes, stroking the side of your face with his free hand. Something about the way he was looking at you made you feel suddenly shy. If he asked you to sing for him, you just knew the ground would have to open and swallow you up. As he opened his mouth, you interrupted him.  
“Would you draw me, Arthur?”  
He looked at you, clearly shocked. “What?”  
“I know you’ve drawn me before, but that was from memory. I’d like to pose for you, let you take your time.”  
He shook his head, “I don’t know, darlin’. I ain’t much good, and I don’t know if you’d like it.”  
“Oh, nonsense, Arthur. You draw beautifully. I just want to see what you’d do if you had me sitting in front of you, to reference.”  
“I’d probably make it look like shit.”  
You slapped his shoulder, laughing, “You moron. I don’t think you could draw me badly if you tried.”  
“You wanna bet?” he scoffed.  
You cocked your eyebrows, a smirk ready on your lips. “Yes. I do.”  
His eyes grew wide, and for a few moments the only sound was Albert’s camera popping in the background. Finally, he caved, throwing his hands up.  
“Alright. Just get comfortable, I guess.”  
He pulled his journal out of his satchel, along with a pencil, and settled himself against the tree, leaving you to rest your elbow on the picnic basket. He looked at you for a long minute, his face a mask of concentration, before you heard the pencil start scratching across the paper. The longer he worked, the deeper his brows furrowed, and the more his mouth twisted. Though you were doing your best to stay still, you couldn’t help but laugh a couple of times. You hadn’t seen him this serious since the wolves, and this was nothing like that at all.  
Finally, he stopped drawing. You weren’t sure if it was because he’d actually finished, or because he’d just given up on trying. Either way, he handed the book to you, shaking his head.  
“I told you it wouldn’t be any good.”  
“You’re right. It’s not good,” you said, making him look at you, startled. “It’s perfect. I love it, Arthur.”  
You turned to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and planting a big kiss on his lips. He smiled that satisfied, slightly smug smile he always smiled when you were being affectionate with him, like he couldn’t quite believe it, but he was damn proud it was him you were being close to. Then he pulled you what him, your back pressed to his chest as he enfolded you in his strong arms. As he nuzzled his face into your neck, you looked over to see Albert smiling at you, raising his camera to take a few photos.  
The two of you sat like that for a long time, talking about anything, or nothing, or sometimes just silent, enjoying the feeling of being together. You wanted to soak up as much pleasure out of being with him as you could. Given what he’d said earlier, you knew that this would likely be the last time you’d see him for a while, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he got up around mid afternoon and offered to round up the horses for Albert to get a good photo. It took less than half an hour for the handful of photos that needed to be taken, once Arthur got involved, and then he moved to leave.  
You walked with him to his horse, surprised as he pressed a piece of paper into your hand before pulling you into a tight hug. While his arms were wrapped around you, he whispered into your ear.  
“This is where you can write me. Make sure you use the name I put down, not my real name, ok?”  
You nodded, looking at him quizzically.  
“Just don’t ask. It ain’t safe for neither of us if you use my name, but it’ll be alright if you use that one. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”  
You nodded again, tears beginning to burn in the corners of your eyes. You’d known you couldn’t stay together forever, but it still hurt to be leaving, not sure when you’d see him again. You tried to console yourself with the fact that at least this time you had a way to get in touch with him, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling.  
He cupped your face in his hands, his own eyes looking a bit red, and pressed a hard kiss to your mouth. Unable to help yourself, you grabbed the back of his head, opening your mouth to him and searching out his tongue with your own. The passion with which you kissed him surprised you both, making you moan into his mouth as his hand found the curve of your ass and gently squeezed it.  
You broke apart before things could get too far, helped along by the convenient clearing of Albert’s throat, reminding you that you weren’t alone. A slight blush on his cheeks, Arthur kissed you once more on the forehead before mounting his horse. Before he could leave, you pressed a hand down on his thigh.  
“You promise me you’re going to write me back?”  
A gentle half smile drew up one side of his mouth.  
“Of course.”  
You smiled at him broadly as he took off, headed back to his life away from you, the one you knew almost nothing about. As you hoped within yourself you’d see him again soon, Albert spoke.  
“Mr Morgan gave you his address?”  
You looked at the scrap of paper in your hand.  
“Yes. We’re hoping to stay in touch.”  
“Excellent,” Albert said, a mysterious smile on his lips. “That should be quite useful.”

Some time later , Arthur returned to camp from a job to find a package sitting on his cot, partially opened. As he looked around to see what was going on, Sadie caught his eye, a wry smile on her face as she looked at him. He chuckled to himself. The woman never could keep out of other people’s mail. He pretended to glare at her for a second, making her laugh, before sitting on his cot and turning his attention to the package. At the very top was a note.  
“Mr Morgan,  
I hope you can forgive me for borrowing your address from my cousin, but after all of the help you’ve given me, I thought you might appreciate these, as a sort of thank you. I also wanted to let you know that, after we take a short break, we will be headed down to Saint Denis. I am working with some government officials there as a part of the project. We will be staying at the Hotel Grand. I do hope you can come see us.  
A.M.”  
Beneath the note was a small stack of photographs, the first of which was a picture of the wolves he’d had to shoot when he’d helped Albert the time before last. It was a nice picture, Arthur thought, but not nearly as nice as the rest. Each of the others was a picture of you and him together beneath the trees near Emerald Ranch. Arthur laid them all on the table before him, his throat tight with the sadness of missing you. He looked at them one by one. Each was a moment of the happiness he felt with you, frozen in time for him to revisit, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to pay Albert back for that. As he picked out his favorite, the one of you in his lap on the picnic blanket, your eyes locked on his, laughter spread across your face, he looked up at the picture of Mary he’d kept by his cot all these years. He picked it up, carefully, storing it in his trunk and put your picture in its place. That picture was his past. Now, he was going to be looking to the future.

5  
As Arthur made his way to the Hotel Grand, he thought about the stack of letters he had tucked away in his trunk. He started keeping them there, away from prying eyes, after he’d seen John eyeballing one he’d accidentally left on his table, his eyes wide. Thankfully, he’d had the decency to not tease him about it. At least, not publicly. Every now and then, he’d find a way to work a comment into conversation about ‘the things you read nowadays’, or how some people can make reading ‘real exciting’, and Arthur would feel a hot blush creeping up his neck. He’d have to make an excuse to be somewhere else until it went away.  
The fact was, the two of you had been writing each other for a few months now, and some of your letters had gotten rather . . . steamy. It had started innocently enough, with comments about how beautiful your lips were, or how safe you felt against his broad chest, but before long you’d both gotten a lot bolder. Even Sadie had stopped bothering to read them, claiming they made her feel downright filthy, and that was before things had gotten so intense. Arthur learned quickly it was best not to read them in company, or too close to sleeping. On one particularly memorable occasion, he remembered describing in vivid detail the exact things he wanted to do to ‘that beautiful ass of yours’, and it still made him blush, though not as much as the lines you’d written about all of the places you wanted to put your mouth.  
As soon as you let him know you were in Saint Denis, he’d taken off to see you. The gang had moved a time or two since the last time you’d seen each other at Emerald Ranch, and by fortuitous circumstances, they were now at a place called Shady Belle, right outside of the city. That meant Arthur could see you as often as he wanted, and he fully intended to take advantage of it. Though he hated the city, it offered plenty of diversions, and he was more thrilled than he liked to admit at the possibility of taking you on a real date. He’d even put on his best shirt and nicest pants, slicking his hair out of his face with a bit of pomade.  
As he approached the hotel desk, he took off his hat, nervously running his fingers over the brim. Licking his lips, he drew in a deep breath to ask for you, and was interrupted by a bright voice at his side.  
“Mr Morgan! How nice to see you again!”  
Arthur smiled. “Hello Albert. Is- uh- is your cousin around?”  
“Yes, of course.” He gave Arthur a wide smile, along with a knowing wink. “They’ll be down in just a moment. I was just about to head out to another meeting with one of the mayor’s representatives, to discuss the finalities of the project. They were going to come along, but, now . . . well, I guess I will just have to do without!”  
Arthur chuckled along with Albert somewhat mindlessly, as he’d been distracted by your appearance at the top of the stairs. As soon as you saw him, your eyes grew wide and a large grin broke out on your face. You fairly flew down the stairs, leaping into his arms. He caught you readily, twirling you into an enormous hug, before letting go of you and bowing to kiss your hand. You giggled as he looked into your eyes, your palm still resting in his.  
“My dearest. Would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to a show this afternoon?”  
You straightened your face, doing your best to match his formal tone, spotting the playful look in his eyes. “Why, Mr Morgan, it would be my absolute pleasure.” You slipped your arm through his, your hand resting on his forearm, and allowed him to lead you out of the door, Albert watching on in mild amusement.  
As you walked to the theater, you both talked about the minor things going on in your lives, the things you’d left out of your letters in favor of romantic promises and suggestive prose. Though Arthur still wouldn’t tell you exactly what his “jobs” entailed, he told you about Bill being an idiot here, or how Sadie had been brave there, and that they’d had to leave the last few places he’d called home because they’d been chased out, giving you the distinct impression that, whatever his “job” was, it wasn’t exactly the most legal thing in the world.  
That feeling was further confirmed a few days later, when you and Arthur were taking a walk through the city. As you passed by the tailor, you heard someone calling Arthur’s name. When the both of you turned, you saw a man in a ridiculously expensive looking suit and top hat walking towards Arthur, waving. At first, he didn’t seem to notice you at all, but as he approached, you saw him glance in your direction, his eyes following down to where your arm was hooked over Arthur’s.  
“Hello, dear boy,” After a cursory nod to Arthur, he reached out to take your fingers gingerly in his, bowing to press his lips against them lightly. “And who, may I ask, is this charming creature here?”  
“Hello, Trelawny.” Arthur wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him possessively. As he introduced you, his words were brusque, his voice a low growl. While you were the kind of person who thought that no one could or should attempt to own another, there was something about the way he seemed to be claiming you, marking you as off limits, that made you feel suddenly hot in the pit of your stomach.  
After a short an somewhat cryptic conversation about another lucrative “job” that involved two other men, a ferry, and Arthur in a suit (which you would have paid to see), Trelawny let the two of you go on your way, but not without a couple of suggestive comments tossed your way that made Arthur clench his jaw so hard you thought his teeth might break. Judging by Trelawny’s amused smirk, that had been exactly the point, but Arthur didn’t seem to find it very entertaining. The entire walk back to the hotel, he didn’t say a word, only gripping your hand tightly in his, seemingly lost in his thoughts.  
When you arrived, Albert met the two of you just outside. He invited Arthur to join you for dinner, but he declined, saying he had something back at camp he had to get to. He turned to leave, not offering you so much as a kiss or goodbye, until you stopped him. Turning him to face you, you put your hands on the back of his neck, ducking under his head as it hung down so that you could look him in the eyes.  
“Arthur?” He looked at you, a soft sadness in his eyes. “Are You okay?”  
After a few seconds, he nodded, looking up and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I guess sometimes I still wonder just why someone as good as you might wanna be with someone like me. I ain’t exactly a prize.”  
You reached up to stroke his cheek, smiling at him. “You are to me,” you said, pressing your lips to his and making him smile a little as he mounted his horse.  
When he got back to camp, Trelawny was there, talking to Dutch about the ferry job, and who might be the best to take along. As Arthur approached, Trelawny looked at him, raising his hand in greeting and getting only a nod in return.  
“Dear boy, you’re not angry about earlier in town, are you? I assure you, I was merely being friendly.”  
Arthur only grunted at him, while Dutch looked between the two, confused.  
“What happened in town?” Trelawny looked to Arthur, trying to give him a chance to explain the situation, but Arthur just glared at him. Finally Dutch spoke again. “Look, is somebody gonna tell me just what the hell is going on here?”  
Arthur swallowed hard, and Trelawny sighed, turning to Dutch. “It appears I have inadvertently offended Mr Morgan here. I was simply out about town today, when I saw him, strolling with his sweetheart-“  
“Sweetheart?!?!” Dutch bellowed, half laughing. “That one you’ve been getting letters from?”  
Arthur clenched his hands by his side, knowing what was coming next. It was part of the reason that, while he hadn’t exactly kept your relationship a secret, he hadn’t been overly obvious about it, either.  
“One should never laugh at romance, Dutch. They make quite the couple.”Trelawny said, wishing he’d never spoken at all. He’d only wanted to apologize to Arthur for his thoughtlessness, not cause a family rift.  
“Oh, I’m sure they do, Mr Trelawny, I’m sure they do. But, son” Dutch turned to Arthur now “do you really think something like this is going to work out? Do you remember what happened with Mary? Eliza? Son, you are a killer. A thief. You have a responsibility to your family, Arthur.” Dutch’s voice was getting louder now, attracting the attention of more and more of the camp. “You have a commitment. Do you really think someone else is going to understand that? Accept it? They will always, always come second. It will only end in heartbreak, do you hear me?”  
Arthur’s head was hanging down, no fight in him anymore. Trelawny looked on sadly, wanting to say something, but unsure of what, and knowing it wouldn’t do any good anyway.  
“Course, Dutch,” Arthur mumbled, heading to his room. He suddenly felt like going to bed, and he didn’t think he’d be awake that early tomorrow.  
It had been nearly a week since you’d last seen Arthur, that day you ran into Trelawny, and you were starting to get worried. He always let you know if he was going to be busy and unable to see you again, even leaving a letter for you at the post office nearest you, if he had to, but when you checked earlier that day, there had been nothing. Given the nature of his talk with Trelawny, along with your growing suspicion, you were genuinely afraid he’d gotten himself into trouble somewhere along the line, but had no idea how to find out. It didn’t seem like a good idea to waltz into the police station and ask to see the recent arrests.  
You turned, rubbing the chill away from your arms through your thin nightclothes. Just as you were about to get into bed, you heard a gentle tapping at the balcony doors. She you looked, you saw Arthur’s face peeking through the window, water dripping down his face. You ran over quickly, opening the door and expecting to see rain, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight, despite the fact that Arthur stood before you, dripping wet. In what had once been a nice suit. With a clean shave and nice haircut. Slowly the pieces clicked into place for you. The ferry job? Lots of money?  
You pushed those thoughts aside as you noticed Arthur was bleeding from a spot near his bicep. As you reached out to him, he stumbled back a bit.  
“I’m sorry to bother you so late. It’s just-“ he hesitated, then took a deep breath, but before he could speak, you put your finger to his lips, shushing him.  
“Let me take care of this first.” You gestured to the spot on his arm.  
He nodded, looking down at you as you wordlessly started peeling off his soaking jacket and vest, tossing them into a chair. Slowly, you started unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers brushing across the skin of his chest in a way that made his breath hitch every time. He nearly groaned, closing his eyes as your hands slid the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms, sweeping lightly against his back. You worked deftly on his arm, his eyes never leaving your face as you cleaned and bandaged his wound.  
When you’d finished, you let your eyes meet his, holding his gaze as you traced your fingers over the tender skin of his chest. When you found the line of a scar, you brought your mouth down, kissing it. He gasped softly, stroking the back of your head before cupping your face in his hands to make you look at him.  
“Darlin’, there’s something I gotta tell you . . . .”  
He told you everything. About Blackwater, the Pinkertons, the life he’d been living. What Dutch had said after he got back to camp that day you ran into Trelawny. He told you about the job he’d pulled that night, and how it had gone wrong, and how he’d found himself heading to your hotel instead of back to camp. When he was done, he brushed some of your hair out of your face and let you go, looking down.  
“I ain’t a good man, and I damn sure ain’t a man good enough for you. I know that. I know Dutch is right, and I’m a damn fool for ever thinking anything different. But I just want you to know that, while this lasted, it was the best damn thing I’ve ever had in my life.”  
You looked up at him, then wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest, not caring how wet your nightclothes got.  
“You are a damn fool, Arthur Morgan. You’re a damn fool for thinking there was anything in the world that could make me stop loving you.”  
Arthur stiffened, pulling away just enough to look down at you. “You love me?”  
You laughed, moving a hand up to the back of his neck. “Of course I do.” Then you pulled him down into a kiss. At first, Arthur was too stunned to do anything but stand there, but as your hands skimmed across his back, he found himself sinking deeper into the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and pulling you against him by the hips.  
The sudden cold of his wet pants caught you off guard, making you gasp and jump back suddenly, looking down. The effects of your skin against his and the kiss you shared were unavoidably obvious, and you looked up at him, cocking your eyebrow suggestively.  
“You know, Arthur,” you said as you reached for the front of his pants, “ you really shouldn’t be hanging around in these wet clothes. You might catch a cold.”  
“Is that right?” He said, giving you a look of his own. “Reckon I’d better get them off, then.”  
You smiled, darkening the room and heading to the bed.  
When you woke the following morning, your body was sore, but fully relaxed, thanks to the pleasures of the previous night. You groaned happily, reaching out to the spot beside you in bed where Arthur should have been, but instead of feeling the warmth of his skin, you only found a folded piece of paper. Heart in your throat, you opened it and began to read.  
“I’m sorry that I could not be there to see your face as you woke this morning, as I’m sure it would probably have been one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Though the feeling of waking with my head on your chest, your heartbeat ringing in my ear, was enough to tempt me to stay, I unfortunately have things that I have to make right before I can let myself drift into that dream. I hope that you will understand. More than anything, I hope you will know that I love you too, though I could not seem to find the words to tell you last night. I will continue to write to you as often as I can. I promise you, I will see you again, hopefully sooner instead of later.  
Know always that I am yours, whatever else shall happen.  
-A.M.

6  
You walk through the garden, slowly, heading to the bench Albert had put beneath the single tree he had in his yard. You’d ask him to put it there, so you could be reminded of the time you had gotten to spend with Arthur. After falling so hard for him, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go back to days filled with a string of people who could never compare, and you knew your mother wouldn’t give up until she saw you married, so you’d asked Albert if you could move in with him. Of course, he’d said you were more than welcome.  
It had been months since you’d last heard from Arthur, a short note he’d left on your bed after you’d spent the night together. You’d confessed your love, and, in the note, he’d said he returned your feelings, but that he had things he had to take care of. Though he’d promised he would write, you’d heard nothing from him since then. You had hung around Saint Denis for as long as you could, but eventually Albert couldn’t come up with any more excuses, and here you were, missing him so much you felt like you could barely breathe. In the darkest parts of the night, sometimes you wondered if you would ever see him again, or if he would be nothing but a sweet memory, kept in your heart. Though you hated to admit it to yourself, you knew it was a very real possibility. He was an outlaw, a wanted man, after all.  
You sighed, picking up your sketchbook again and sorting through the reference photos Albert had left with you. While he was out hunting his “crowning glory” photo, it was your job to create the detailed drawings of plants and scenery that would accompany his photos. You enjoyed it, and it provided you with something to fill the days, as well as a tidy sum that would keep you fed and clothed for some time. Still, you often wondered what your cousin was up to. During the course of your adventures with him, he’d managed to get himself into all sorts of troubles, often only surviving thanks to Arthur. This time, supposedly, there was “no risk whatsoever” because he was only photographing eagles nesting, but you’d certainly heard that before, only to find yourself nearly eaten.  
“You wanna be careful up here, the land is real treacherous.”  
Albert jumped back from his camera, startled. He’d been taking photos all day, not a soul in sight, so the last thing he expect was for someone to sneak up on him. Finding out who it was startled him even more.  
“Mr Morgan!” Albert ran over to greet him, shaking him warmly by the hand and clapping him on the shoulder. “I certainly didn’t expect to see you here!”  
“Funny the way things turn out, isn’t it? It’s never quite how you’d expect.” Arthur chuckled a bit.  
“No, I don’t suppose it is.”Albert thought of his cousin, pining away for the man who stood in front of him. He took a step back, readying himself to ask Arthur what he intended for you, when Arthur stepped forward quickly, shooting his arm out.  
“Please,” he said, “Mr Mason, would you step away from the cliff’s edge?” He’d spent enough time around Albert to know that danger had a tendency to find him, despite his best intentions. “Eagles are beautiful, but, unlike you, they can fly.”  
“Oh, you must think I’m really a buffoon.” Albert said, mindlessly stepping farther back as he spoke. “As if I’m going to just step-“  
With that, he disappeared over the edge of the cliff, Arthur cursing and leaping forward, peering down. Suddenly a small voice caught his attention.  
“Apparently I am that much of a buffoon.”  
He reached down, pulling a shaking Albert back up over the edge of the cliff. Immediately, Albert started packing his camera away.  
“Bugger the eagles. I’m going home!” He shoved his things into his bag and began to stomp off towards his horse. As Arthur realized what was happening, he rushed to catch up with him.  
“Mr Mason! Albert!” Albert stopped, turning to look at him. “Please. Do you know where I can find your cousin?”  
A wide smile spread across Albert’s face. “As a matter of fact . . . .” He gave him a quick rundown of the events, Arthur’s hand tapping impatiently against his thigh as he waited. When he finally got the directions to his house out of Albert, he leapt onto his horse, tearing away in a cloud of dust, while Albert smiled.  
For you, it was just another day in the garden, thinking about the man you’d begun to realize you would never have. Everything the two of you had shared, every touch, every tender kiss, replayed itself inside of your head again and again. It was as if you’d lost a part of your soul, a piece of yourself you’d never known was missing until you’d met him. You ached inside with the missing of him, and you knew there would never be anyone else for you, that no other person could possibly compare. The tears were falling thick and fast into your lap when you heard the hoof beats. As they grew louder, you stood, searching the horizon where they seemed to be coming from as you wiped your eyes. Albert wasn’t due home for another few days, but if he was back early, the last thing you wanted him to see was you crying yourself silly over Arthur.  
When the rider finally came into view, you could swear your heart stopped. You’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your entire life. As you collapsed onto the ground, Arthur was off of his horse, not even waiting for it to stop. Seconds later, you were in his arms, crying tears of joy, tears of relief, as his warm voice murmured sweet words on your ear. He held you closely as he kissed away every tear you cried, stroking your hair. When you had both finally settled down and finished kissing each other breathless, he stood, pulling you up after him and sitting you down on the bench. He kneeled in front of you, cupping your face in his hands.  
You shook your head at him, still astounded that he was finally here, in front of you again.  
“ I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought I would never see you again.”  
He pressed his forehead to yours, smiling.  
“Darlin’, you’re the sweetest, most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. You let me be who I am, and ain’t never asked me for anything you know I can’t give you. Not only did you accept who I was, you went and fell in love with me, knowing it. I ain’t walking away from that. Not ever.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver band with a small white stone in the center.  
“I told you I had things that had to be done, and I did ‘em. Now I’m here, and I’m all yours. It’s all I want, and I hope you feel the same way. So now, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be your husband.”  
There are no words to describe the tender vulnerability you see in his eyes. He’s laid his soul bare for you, showing you the one thing he wants more than anything else in his life, and, by some miracle, it’s you. There’s only one answer you could possibly give him. Tears well in your eyes as you notice the hand that’s holding the ring up to you is shaking slightly. You press your mouth to his, hard, for just one moment. Then . . .  
“Yes.”  
He grabs you, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around in his arms like he’s the happiest person in the world. Maybe he is, or at least, maybe it’s tied, because you know you’d be in the running too, you feel right now. It’s like, suddenly, the whole world makes sense, and every flower that’s ever bloomed, every ray of sunshine, every laugh has brought you this moment. This is not your happy ending, no, because this is only the beginning. You’re going to marry the most amazing man in the world, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. It’s only going to get better from here.  
And, of course, when the wedding comes, Albert is the best man.


End file.
